


After the cure

by Roselyn



Category: A Cure For Wellness (2016)
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fever, Hand Jobs, Incest, Mind Manipulation, Nursing, Nursing Kink, Parent/Child Incest, Sick Character, Stomach pain, Tie Kink, Volmer's night after he swallowed the eels, eels in belly, stomach cramps, swollen belly, well not anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 12:53:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12912324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roselyn/pseuds/Roselyn
Summary: Volmer's painful night after he tries the cure.(Takes place between 'My sweet, cruel child' and 'The late night visit' )





	After the cure

Dr. Heinreich Volmer shifts restlessly on his bead, sweating and in pain. Even though the last eel has found its way out of his body a good long hour ago, it still feels like there is something wiggling inside of his cramping stomach. The hydration tablets he has taken have not yet improved his condition.

The bed creaks in the dark. A small weight approaches him, crawling by his side on all fours. A cool hand lands on his cheek, slowly making its way up to his burning forehead.

“You have fever,” a silent mouse-like voice observes. Its tone is compassionate, worrying.

“Hannah?”

There is no reply. Instead, Dr. Volmer can feel a pair of hands land on his stomach. His belly is still sore and slightly swollen. Not tight and bloated to the edge of bursting like with the eels still inside of him, but soft and slightly rounded; a tender curve beneath Hannah’s caring hands. A small mound covered in the dark green satin of his pajamas. . .

Hannah beguines to massage him. Gently, solemnly; hands on each side of the swell of his aching stomach. Her fingers slide on the satin, thumbs meeting close to his navel. Caring, teasing.

Dr. Volmer groans, closing his eyes for a moment. The feeling is delicious, comforting, but with his fever the good doctor knows having the girl in his room is a risk. He might not be able to control his lust, not like this; not ill and feverish, under the seduction of her slender, innocent fingers. 

It is a great effort, but he manages to stop her, grabbing her wrist. “H-Hannah. . . you have to leave. I am. . . I am sick. I can’t —I can’t. . . I don’t want you to get sick as well. . .” 

That is what he says, manages to slur out between painful gut-twisting cramps, but he has forced the girl’s hand tighter against his body. His breathing has become labored, more ragged and shallow. 

“You are hurt,” her silent voice whispers. “I heard you whimper. It’s the cure, isn’t it? It made you ill. . . I wish to help —It’s my fault; I asked you to try the cure. . .”

Dr. Volmer is moved by her compassion, tempted by her offer, but knows better than to accept. “You cannot help me, Hannah. Not now. Not here. Go . . . please go. . .”

Her free hand slips under his pajamas shirt, stroking the tender skin. Volmer knows Hannah is going to be the end of him. Now. Tonight. Soon. 

“Oh, Hannah! You can’t . . . you can’t,” he pants and his fingers find their way to her hair in the dark, pushing it gently behind her ear. “You know you have to bind my hands. . . You have to leave. Please leave. . .”

He pushes her away in the middle of his feverish ranting, falling back to the pillows. Part of him fears he will sweat his face off and frighten the girl. The other part fears he’ll force himself on her, taking her in every way a man can take a woman. 

The bed creaks and the weight of the girl shifts away when yet another cramp washes over him, leaving him to grit his teeth in agony. He misses her hands already, those sweet caring hands that have given him so much pleasure during the long years. But it is better if she leaves. Better for her. Better for him. 

There is a sound in the darkness. A sound of something sliding on fabric. And a metallic click of a belt buckle. 

Volmer cannot believe his luck. He nearly sobs in anticipation when the bed creaks again, lifting his hands eagerly against the bedpost. 

“H-Hannah, sweet angel!”

He gasps as the belt tightens against his wrists, harsh, tight, yet so full of promises. Leaving him completely at the mercy of his unexpected nurse. . .

Her hands find their way on his belly again, rubbing soothing circles. Slow, tempting, teasing circles.

She finds a sore spot, making Volmer grunt in agony as his belly groans under her touch. 

“Hush, hush. . . I will make it better,” she coos. “It’s my fault you’re in pain, Doctor. . .”

Hannah sits on his thighs, up, close to his throbbing erection. Volmer can feel the heat of her body through his pajamas. 

Her hands run over the green satin mound, up and down, softly, gently, pushing up the shirt, exposing him to her child-like whims. 

She adds more pressure, the base of her hands pressing into his lower stomach. The rounded softness of his flesh gives in under her touch, forcing out a watery burp. 

Volmer is quick to swallow it, masking the rest as a sound that is somewhere between a cough and a moan. He does not wish Hannah to find him repulsive. 

“Hush, hush. . . Does it hurt badly, Doctor? I will make it better, I promise. . .” 

“Yes, yes! It hurts Hannah. . .” he pants into the darkness, his eyes closed, his head bend back in pleasure. The leather belt tightens, its edge digging into the skin of his wrists.

“Is it the cure?” her sweet voice asks. “Is one of them . . . still inside?” 

Her voice sounds nervous, somehow excited. And out of a whim, Volmer chooses to lie. 

“Yes.”

Hannah attacks his middle with new found fervor, her eager hands studying him, running from hipbones up to his ribcage and back again. She applies more pressure than needed, forcing out yet another well disguised burp and a loud moan of pain and pleasure. It almost seems like she’s trying to find the missing eel, to feel it against her hands through his skin.

“H-Hannah, you are pressing too hard. You’re hurting me. . .”

She barely hears him, and soon she presses harder again, the base of her hand sinking into his soft, slightly rounded lower abdomen. 

Dr. Volmer cries out, his hips rising from the mattress. He thrusts his belly up, towards the girl’s hands, begging, offering himself. 

“Please Hannah! Please. . .” He’s not sure what he begs her for. Mercy? Torture? Release?

Her hand stops, her finger beguines to trail his waistline. Shy. Hesitant. Considering. . . 

“H-Hannah?”

Her hand moves lower, brushing over the satin covered bulge. 

Dr. Volmer is helpless under her touch. He gasps, his back arching in surprise. His labored breathing has turned into heavy panting. Sweat glitters on his temples and upper lip.

Hannah repeats the movement a couple of times, experimenting, before fully cupping him through the satin. 

Dr. Volmer’s world goes blurry from the edges. His hips jerk. 

He recovers slowly from the earthquake of his pleasure, feeling Hannah’s hand supporting his head. She has raised a glass on his lips. 

He drinks, tasting water. Pure water. 

Hannah allows him few large gulps before laying him back down. For his unexpected delight, she settles down next to him, curling against his body. 

Her head rests on his shoulder, her leg on his thigh, her cool hand on the exposed swell of his stomach. 

“I hope you feel better soon, Doctor,” she whispers, planting a light kiss on corner of his mouth. 

Dr. Volmer stirs, opening his eyes. He switches on the table lamp. His hands are no longer bound. The room is empty. There is no Hannah and he is tugged safely under covers. 

He has hallucinated her. 

His belt is on the floor by the bed. 

Has he hallucinated her? 

He does not know.


End file.
